Page 24 of Holiday Unscripted
“I would say the same.” He looks down and his mouth forms a smirk. “One almost took out my eyes.”
“It’s not my fault that me being naked bothers you.” I bring the cup of coffee to my lips.
“Nothing about you naked bothers me.” He takes his own sip. “Quite the contrary, actually.”
My head about whips around to stare at him, but I don’t have a chance to say anything before his phone rings. He walks over to the jacket he tossed on the couch and pulls it out. “It’s your brother.”
“Don’t fucking answer it,” I tell him. “He’ll probably be like, ‘Hey, there’s a break in the schedule, so we’ve added snowshoeing to it.’”
He laughs at me as he answers the phone and puts it on speaker. I narrow my eyes and glare right at him for not listening to me. “Hey,” he greets, “you’re on speakerphone and your sister is here.”
“No, I’m not!” I shout. “I’m, in fact, not here. I’m a ghost.”
“Oh good, I have the both of you so it can save me a phone call,” he says and Nate puts the phone on the counter, and I hold my hands up like I’m about to strangle him. “Just a reminder that it’s the day to do the last fitting.”
“Last fitting?” I repeat. “I didn’t do a first fitting.”
“We know,” Joshua replies. “We were wondering if you could maybe get there a bit early so she can work on yours first.”
“Who is we?” I ask him. “I emailed her my measurements that I took with her on Zoom. It’ll be fine.”
“It’s my wedding day,” he snaps and I look up at Nate, who just raises his eyebrows.
“Yes, wedding day, not fucking wedding week,” I retort. “I’ll be there when I need to be there and not a minute before. I have things I’m doing.”
“Yeah, like what?” he asks me.
“Like annoying Nate with my nipples,” I declare, and he grabs the phone from the counter.
“No nipples have been seen on purpose,” he denies into the phone. “I’ll drive her there as soon as she gets dressed.”
“No, he won’t,” I sing out as he disconnects the phone. “Fine, I’ll just be lounging here.” I walk over to the couch and put my knee into it before I sit down and cuddle in the corner. Whiskey comes up and joins me. “With my nipples, until fifteen minutes before we’re due to be there.”
“Should I make breakfast?” he asks me, leaning his elbows on the island.
“We would not say no to some pancakes and scrambled eggs.” I pet Whiskey’s head. “Would we?”
“So, you want pancakes and scrambled eggs.”
“I mean, if you are making them for yourself”—I hold up my hands—“I won’t say no.”
“You could just say, ‘Yes, Nate, that sounds great.’” He looks at me. “‘I would love to have some pancakes and scrambled eggs.’”
“If you’re making them, sure, I would like that very much.”
“Were you always this much of a pain in my ass?” he asks me and I shrug.
“Pretty much.” I turn back to look at him watching me. “I plan to be a pain in your ass every single day I’m here.”
“Well, unlike bowling.” He snorts. “You are killing it at that.”
“Do you hear that, Whiskey?” I rub his head. “I’m a pain in his ass.”
“Hey, at least now you’re talking to me,” he mumbles, and my head turns to watch his back as he takes the egg carton out of the fridge.
“What does that mean?” I ask him, the pit of my stomach now getting tight.
“It means exactly what I said it means.” He puts the things on the counter.
